Midnight Ramblings
by Mahalat
Summary: My FemShep's inner thoughts throughout the ME2 storyline. Chapter 2 added, working on the rest.
1. Chapter 1

_The usual disclaimer, I do not own Mass Effect or the wonderful characters therein. They belong to BioWare, along with part of my soul. These ideas were bouncing around in my head and wouldn't let me be until they came out. I have not written in more than ten years, so I would appreciate constructive criticism. Also, English is not my first language._

Entry 1

This is Djuna Shepard, starting a journal as suggested by a therapist after Mindoir. It seems appropriate now. I will rehash my past in other entries or addendum. For now, there are thoughts I can't run away from anymore.

Ever since I woke up on that cold operating slab, I have been blindly stumbling downhill. I have momentum, I know my goal, but the way there is fraught with traps and there is not one person I can turn to, precious few I can trust. And yet, they all seem to count on me. No pressure.

I used to be Commander Shepard, First Human Specter. There was structure and strength in that. With the Alliance and the Council both barely acknowledging I'm alive, I seem to be neither now. Which leaves.. what? Last time I was simply Djuna Shepard, I was a teenager high on life before her world shattered around her. As it has again, I suppose. Only now I can show no weakness, since there are those who will be discouraged and those who will take advantage. Hard to know who is in which camp sometimes. So I hide my emotions in a small box, like my mother hid me in that cellar all those years ago, and cover it all with a smirk or lifted brow. And pretend for them, for me, that I have no needs. That at the end of the day, there is no insomnia or nightmares.

Pretend that when Commander Shepard fades, it's not just me, Djuna, alone.

Entry 4

I found Garrus and nearly lost him again. His injuries are severe, but he will make a full recovery. He is too strong for this to hold him back. I am more worried about his emotional health. He has spent so long focused in what he is fighting against, that he has forgotten what he is fighting for. Or perhaps he simply never knew. It's an easy trap to fall into, and hard to avoid. I will ask Kelly to discretely help me guide him, heal him, away from that darkness.

Still, his presence aboard the Normandy is a welcome balm for me. In these two years I have somehow become less Commander and more Shepard to him, and we have found a close and strong friend in each other. We'll both need it, we already do.

Entry 9

The crew is settling in, adopting a routine. This happens every time, and each time it's different. Perhaps I'm more aware of it this time because this is not an Alliance crew, or because our chances are stacked against us, and everyone is grasping for a semblance of stability.

So Ken, Gabby and Joker play cards once a week, and pity the fool that tries to pit their wit against them. There's always one. Dr. Chakwas and I have tea every now and then. It's a lot safer than brandy, though I must find another bottle for her. Kelly joins me for lunch more often than not, and I admit, she has grown on me. She also has been spending a lot of time with Garrus, and lo and behold, he is starting to smile more. Interestingly enough, Kelly has started to blush.

Funny what comforts we seek in the midst of this chaos. Comfort and closure. Miranda has asked for my help in a time sensitive matter, so Illium will be our next stop. There are also two recruits to find there, and though the dossiers are ..sparse, they should be quite an addition to this motley crew. Gods, what I wouldn't give for better intel!

Entry 11

Liara, is ..as broken as we all seem to be after these two years. Another one of us consumed with hatred, and partly because of me. Kaidan was also changed, I couldn't reach him in Horizon. Too much pain lay between us. Gone the camaraderie that could have been more. Perhaps, if we survive..

Of all of us, Tali is the one that has fared better. Wrex would say she's grown a quad.

Entry 12

We have Miranda's target under observation, but cannot approach her until the scheduled date. Target is the wrong word; we are protecting someone's way of life this time. A welcome change.

Meanwhile, we have found our assassin, and he is not what I expected. He was very concerned for the Salarian workers; it reminded me of how I felt for the plague victims in Omega. I found Nassana still alive, and goaded her (and him), waiting to see how things would unfold. As it was, he captivated me with the fluid precision of his movements, and then shattered my preconceptions as soon as he opened his mouth. Did he know I had been provoking him? Once the time for bravado had passed and we got to the heart of things, he blindsided me again. What is it about Mr. Krios that makes me want to know his innermost thoughts, and share mine with him? I covered my trepidation with cold professionalism, of course.

Jacob was quick to show dominance, or try to. I cannot for the life of me understand him. For someone who is so eager to salute like the good little Alliance soldier he is not, he is also very eager to question my orders. But it's not that, or his loyalty to Cerberus that puzzle me. I simply cannot understand what he says most of the time. It's like he speaks a different language that sounds enough like English that the translator doesn't kick in, and leaves me floundering every time I try to approach him.

I know the gravity of our situation, I can feel the weight on my shoulders enough to know I cannot get distracted by a haunting voice and deep, mournful eyes. And yet, for the first time since I was sixteen, I can feel my own breathing, hear my heart beat. For the first time since then, I feel alive.


	2. Chapter 2

_This is a short one, just getting back into the gaming/writing dynamic after giving up on learning military jargon to pepper the script. I still have not had the nerve to ask anyone to proofread, so please review._

_Thank you, kiwibliss, for the support and prompt review! Your work inspires me.  
_

Entry 13

After a few complications, Miranda's sister is safe. She seems well adjusted and even happy. I am sure she can teach Miranda a thing or two, and help her see that she is more than the sum of her genetically engineered parts.

I asked Thane to come with me to the Commercial Spaceport to recruit Samara. He has been on this planet for a while and is acquainted with the dynamics. I am also curious to see him in action, as part of a team. Someday I'll ask him to teach me some of his hand-to-hand combat technique. Garrus helped me refine my sniper skills, but my unarmed combat is lacking, and Mr. Krios is an artist in that field.

Samara is also an impressive warrior, with both power and grace. Having them fight by my side will be quite an honour. I find myself looking forward to it, almost as much as I look forward to conversing with them. This scares me. I have to believe there is more than the battlefield, that at one point, we'll get through to a time of peace ...somehow.

For now, peace and calm elude me. I cannot lose myself in training as usual, even when I drive myself to exhaustion. Alone in my quarters, I am fidgety, restless, wanting.

Entry 16

Everyone has different and sometimes conflicting ideas about our mission. Tali is sure we'll succeed and survive, and apparently so is Miranda, amazingly enough. Garrus knows not everyone will come back, and so does Dr. Chakwas. Samara is incurious and following her path, with remarkable serenity. Thane seems resigned to his death, and just wants to leave the universe better than he found it. Failure has seemed to disappear from our vocabulary, and I'm strangely empowered by this.

Garrus, however, is back to his dark moods. We must find resolution to his problem before there is a chance for him to truly live and find peace. Kelly does what she can, but she knows not to intrude in his brooding. We will go to the Citadel and he will work this out, one way or another.

I have discarded the idea of asking Thane to train me. Instead, I find myself at his door almost as soon as my thoughts start to wander. Most of the time, I turn around and go back to my duties There is always something that requires The Commander Shepard's attention, after all. But when I do enter the Life Support chamber, I find myself simply being me. He draws me in, with his voice, his gestures, his words. His mind fascinates me, his presence haunts me. We talk, and time and anxiety are suspended.

I still yearn, but now I know what I yearn for, and that makes all the difference.

Entry 21

Traps, deceit, betrayal. As if what we are facing is not dark enough, I am tricked into endangering my crew. I almost lost Jack in that "disabled ship" and now TIM expects me to board a reaper? Desperate times, desperate measures. Simple words with a very cruel meaning. I need to be clear-headed for my crew, for the mission. I wish I could find clarity in meditation, but I have not learned the discipline, so my rage screams for another thresher maw to fight.

The IFF will have to wait. Before I take another big step into potential catastrophe, there are two things I HAVE to do: reinforce and upgrade the Normandy as much as possible, and train my squad.

I have gathered an impressive group of recruits, yet that does not make a team. They are not soldiers, but highly individualistic warriors. They must learn to use their unique strengths to complement each other, cover one another, trust each other and my leadership. So while we are seemingly wasting time, gathering resources and running errands for the Alliance or Cerberus, we are really learning this intricate dance, building bonds and skills that will ultimately, hopefully, bring us all back in one piece. This is the greatest challenge I have ever faced.

I will regain my focus with dedication. If I concentrate on each step, I will have no time for fear.

Entry 22

I guess this was unavoidable. This Normandy is not an Alliance vessel, her crew members are not career soldiers. No regs or rules against fraternization. So far we have carried on without big complications. Close, but trust Joker to talk his way out of trouble and into Gabby's heart.

But that is not what's on my mind. Not exactly. After the "disabled ship" fiasco I had been avoiding Thane; he can always see right through me, and I was too troubled to lower my defenses. I thought he wouldn't notice, but I was fooling myself. After the last mission, he subtly guided me from the shuttle to Life Support, and I, lost in conversation, blindly followed him.

He asked no questions, made no remarks, simply …talked. And that was all I needed. My walls came tumbling down while we talked about nothing and everything, memories and dreams. As I was heading out he reached out to me. It seems I'm not the only one who craves our conversations. It should unsettle me how easily he can evoke in me the calm and focus I was so desperately seeking. It should.. but instead I reach back and hope for more.


End file.
